


Scratching

by angel1876



Series: Science With Gaster [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Reader not referred to by gender, Scratching, Self Harm, Unintentional Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 11:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel1876/pseuds/angel1876
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short drabble in which Gaster helps you with your scratching problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scratching

"Are you okay?"

You freeze mid scratch at the question, nearly jumping out of your skin when you looked up to see the scientist hovering over you. His hands were behind his back as he looked down, pupils wide and dim as he took you in where you lay on the couch. You hadn't even noticed him enter the room.

When you didn't answer, he pressed. "I smell blood. Have you been injured?"

It was only then you recognized the dull throbbing under your fingertips, scalp burning at your touch. With a frown, you pulled your hand free from the knotted mess you'd made of your hair. Just as he'd said, you could see red flecks staining your nails, and you winced at the sight. You hadn't realized you were scratching that hard.

"Oh. Oopse..." you murmured, closing the book you'd been reading to set it on the nearby desk. Sitting up to face him, you gave a sheepish grin, hand raised to claw at the side of your head. "I'm fine, I just...anyway, what's up?"

He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled it away, a thumb soothing back and fourth over the joint. When you started to raise your other hand, he took that one, too, threading his fingers through yours with a soft squeeze. "You shouldn't hurt yourself like that, human."

"Gaster..." You couldn't keep the whine from your voice, a twinge of frustration at his insistence. While you knew he had your best interest at heart, it was hard to focus on that when nervous energy flared out under your skin. It wasn't like you'd done much damage. Besides, you'd stopped scratching too hard once you'd noticed what you were doing.

He gave a quiet hum, and tugged one hand toward his arm, placing it over the sleeve of his lab coat instead. "Scratch this, then."

"What?"

"I'll come up with a better solution later. For now, you can scratch at my coat if you need to. It's better than pulling your scalp apart, right?" His eyes brightened, and he nudged your forehead with his own. You glanced down at your hand where it rested against his arm. Alright, you could give it a try, you supposed.

You curled your fingers inward, scraping the nails over the cloth. His coat was thick, not exactly rough under your touch but not soft either. Made to keep unwanted chemicals from coming into contact with the bones underneath, and not for warmth or comfort, as with jackets and sweaters. That gave it the perfect texture, and within moments you relaxed into a steady rhythm.

He let go of your other hand and, not willing to touch your hair until the wounds on your head healed, brushed his fingers along the side of your neck. You leaned into him, eyes closed, focused on his sleeve.

It took quite a while to work it out of your system, minutes ticking by in content silence. When the urge to scratch faded, he eagerly tugged you out of the room to share his latest project with you.

The next day, first thing in he morning, he gave you a small plank of wood wrapped in the same type of cloth his lab coat was made of.


End file.
